


Waitress [ DISCONTINUED ]

by orphan_account



Category: Marvel
Genre: Abuse, Abusive Marriage, Cheating, F/M, Falling In Love, Infidelity, Marriage, Pregnancy, cursing, slowburn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-03
Updated: 2018-05-12
Packaged: 2019-05-01 10:49:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,884
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14518854
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Beatrice Callahan never thought her life would turn out the way did. Back in high school she dreamed of owning her own bakery and living a happy life. Instead she married Brock Rumlow, the cruelest man she knows. Beatrice starts to believe there’s no hope for her after she falls pregnant with his child, but then a certain blue eyed stranger moves to town. Will he teach her to love again, or will she always be stuck in a life she never wanted? (Based off the musical/movie Waitress)





	1. The Test

**Author's Note:**

> Thought of this plot after watching the musical and thought it would be really fun. Constructive criticism is greatly appreciated. If you like, comment!  
> (Not Edited)

    Beatrice considered herself a fairly decent person, it’s not like she’s ever killed anybody, or intentionally hurt someone. Sure, she’d done a few questionable things in her past, but nothing that would illicit an act of punishment from God (or whoever the fuck decided to put Brock Rumlow’s baby in her).

     She lifted the pregnancy test to her eyes, the two bright pink lines obnoxiously prominent against the white background. As though they were mocking her, like they were saying in tiny voices, “You’ve fucked up and now the man you hate is going to own you forever.” She slammed the test onto the counter, not even noticing her hands shaking until she pulled them back into her lap. 

     “What have I done?” She asked herself, running her hands over her face. She couldn’t have Brock’s baby, she really couldn’t. He was a cruel man and seemed to live only to hurt and bilittle her, she stuck with him though, hoping that he’d wake up one morning and be the quiet, kind boy she’d met in highschool. After five years of marriage, it never happened, and Beatrice couldn’t afford to wait any longer, not with a baby on the way.

    ‘Oh god, a baby.’ She felt nauseous and a hard, uncomfortable lump formed in her throat. She knew the most logical reason would be to get rid of fetus and never let Brock know she even  _thought_ she might be pregnant. Yet, she couldn’t. She couldn’t just be rid of the baby and pretend like it wasn’t there, like it never happened. Although she had always supported abortions, in the one moment it counted she couldn’t bring herself to have one.

     She was ripped from her thoughts when a loud bang sounded from outside the bathroom door, making her almost jump out of her boots. “What does the test say Beatrice?” The voice said softly. When Beatrice recognized it as Wanda’s, she wiped at her eyes and opened the door, coming face to face with her best friends worried expression.

     “I’m pregnant.” She whispered, cursing her self silently when her voice wavered.

     “Oh honey,” Wanda whispered, wrapping her arms around her shaking friend, “I’m so sorry.”

     Beatrice let her walls drop, her tears flowing freely. She let out a strangled cry and squeezed Wanda harder, starting to create a pie in her head. “I Don’t Want Brock’s Baby Pie.” No, no, no, no. She couldn’t put that on the menu board. “Betrayed by My Eggs.” That was it. A quiche of egg and Brie cheese with a smoked ham center. When people rushed into the diner tomorrow to get a taste of her pies, they wont even know they’re enjoying a heaping plate of secrets and regret. Regret from choices she’d made when she was much younger, and regret from a choice she made only weeks before.

     She pulled away from Wanda, wiping at her eyes. Beatrice moved away when her friend reached for her again, shaking her head slowly. “I’m a big girl darlin’,” She said with a sad smile, “I can take care of myself. Now you hurry along, we’ve got tables to waitress.”

     Wanda gave one last pitiful look before leaving the bathroom, ready to open up for a day. Beatrice took a good look at herself in the mirror. ‘Look at me,’ she thought, ‘What I would give to be young and naive again. I’m gonna be a mama, who ever thought.” She tucked a strand of curly hair that had fallen loose from her bun behind her ear, wiping once more at her eyes before joining Wanda.

     Beatrice had never considered being a mother, always thought it to be too much work. She never really had the patience for children, sure she was nice to them and if a child needed something Beatrice wouldn’t hesitate to help, but she never thought she’d worry about one 24/7 for her whole life. Now she had to.

     She walked out of the bathroom into the diner where Wanda was vigorously scrubbing at a table. It was still early so the diner hadn’t opened yet, which gave Beatrice time to make her Pie Of The Day. She gave Wanda a smile before tying an apron around her waist and retreating for the kitchen. Tony wouldn’t come in for another hour or so which left Beatrice some time to work in peace without his loud, obnoxious music assaulting her ears.

     Tony was the owner of “Tony’s Diner.” Sure he was an asshole sometimes, and has made a sexual comment to her many times, but he was basically family. He met her over six years ago, when she was fresh faced and barely an adult. She had staggered in on the arm of a handsome boy who seemed to have so much love in his eyes for her. Tony talked to them for a couple of hours, and when learning about the newly engaged couples financial problems, offered Beatrice a job. She had basically hopped over the table to hug him, and Tony knew this kid was a winner.

     That was a long time ago, long before Brock lost the softness in his eyes and long before Beatrice knew about the other side of Brock. She shrugged the thoughts away when Tony swung open the kitchen door wearing a crisp suit and a shit-eating grin. “How you doin’ kiddo?” He asked.

     “Not good.” She answered truthfully, pulling her now finished quiche from the oven.

     “That sucks. Hope you feel good soon kiddo.” Tony then entered his office, and almost immediately blared music at the top volume setting. Beatrice laughed silently, glad that Tony knew when not to meddle. 

     Sam was last, arriving just as Beatrice placed her quiche on display and turned the sign to OPEN. “I’m not late!” He shouted when she opened her mouth, making her laugh. “I’m never late, everyone else is just early!” He then sprinted to the kitchen, almost tripping over his own feet a couple of times.

     Beatrice laughed, glad that her friends were here to make her feel better. Sam was the cook, and apparently an old friend of Tony’s. Something about being co-workers once. He was the cook when Beatrice was first hired and the two grew very close very quickly. Maybe it was his snarky attitude or sarcastic nature. Or maybe it was the way he could hug her for hours and never get sick of it because he’s that good of a friend. He was the one who hired Wanda, and the one who first tried Beatrice’s pies. He was one of her best friends.

     She smiled, watching as the customers rolled in. She was happy, even knowing that by the end of the day, she had to go home to her husband.

 


	2. The Husband

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brock’s a huge dick
> 
> (Abuse Warning)

     It was dark when Wanda finally sat down with Beatrice. It was an hour after closing and the boys had gone home, leaving the girls alone to talk. Beatrice was glad she had a friend like Wanda. Wanda was a ray of sunshine, kind, loving, and so damn sweet Beatrice was worried she’d get a cavity. Beatrice would never admit it but she often felt envious of Wanda, the young girl had so much love and freedom in her heart. She was barely twenty, the same age Beatrice was when she pledged her life forever for Brock. Except, Wanda wasn’t trapped in a loveless, horrible marriage.

     “How did this happen?” Wanda asked, wringing her hands together. Wanda would never say but no matter how beautiful, or how good her pies were, Wanda would never want to Beatrice.

     “He got me drunk,” Beatrice answered, running her hands through her hair, wincing when she hit knots, “I do stupid things when I’m drunk. Like sleep with my husband.” As much as Beatrice wanted to love Brock, she just couldn’t. She couldn’t love someone who hurt her, she couldn’t love someone who didn’t love her back.

     “I’m so sorry Bea,” Wanda said solemnly. Wanda knew all about Brock. She found out accidentally when she came to work early and walked in on Beatrice attempting to cover a black eye with makeup. The worried girl automatically interrogated her friend, making Beatrice break down and explain the situation to her. The day she got the wound was a bad one; Beatrice had broken a picture frame while cleaning and Brock had turned violent. He screamed and screamed, calling her useless and other names until Beatrice couldn’t take anymore and screamed back. When she did, Brock hit her, his fist hitting her hard as he looked at her with a fiery look in his eyes. It was his first hit, and it wouldn’t be his last.

     That was three years ago, the day her life changed forever. ‘He doesn’t love you,’ She had thought to herself, ‘This isn’t love.’ But, she pushed it down, ignored her gut feeling. Against her better judgement, she stayed. And he only got more violent.

     Tony and Sam didn’t know, and Wanda had pledged a vow of silence a long time ago. Beatrice knew if the boys found out about Brock’s nature, they would go ballistic, and Beatrice didn’t know what she would do if one them had gotten hurt because of her. So she kept it a secret. Until Wanda.

     “What am I gonna do, Wanda?” Beatrice asked, rubbing her hands over her face, holding back tears. She figured she had cried enough for one day.

     Wanda took Beatrice’s hands in her own, smiling softly. “Are you gonna keep her?” She asked, a hopeful glint in her eyes.

     Beatrice nodded, “I just can’t-wait.. how do you know it’s a girl?” She asked.

     “I just know.” Wanda winked.

     Beatrice smiled. She liked the idea of daughter, a beautiful, kind, and brave daughter. She would teach her how to make pies and would tell her every second of every day that she was important. Like Beatrice’s mother had done so many years before.

     “I’m going to the doctor tomorrow,” Beatrice stated, “Gonna make sure everything’s okay, get a lists of do’s and don’ts.”

     “What about Brock?” Wanda asked, “Are you gonna tell him?”

     “Well, I’ll have to at some point.” Beatrice said truthfully.

     “Maybe you don’t have to,” Wanda said. She pulled a newspaper clipping from her apron pocket, handing it to Beatrice. A headline was in bold letters and highlighted in a neon yellow, definitely Wanda’s doing. It read  **“SPRINGSVILLE** **PIE BAKING CONTEST.”** And Beatrice felt a tug of hope in her heart. 

     “The prize is $20,000,” Wanda said, excitement evident in her voice, “With that money you and Ms. Baby can buy yourselves a new life, you can start fresh. No more Brock.”

     “You think I can win?” Beatrice wondered.

     “Bea, your pies are best damn things I’ve ever tasted, if you don’t win I will personally do a psychiatric evaluation on all the judges.” Wanda joked, laughing quietly with Beatrice.

     For the first time in a long time Beatrice felt truly happy, like everything was falling in place.

     Until Brock came to take her home.

     A loud horn sounded outside of the diner, making both the girls jump. The smiles disappeared from both girls faces, and the happiness Beatrice had felt only moments before had disappeared, replaced with a feeling of utter dread.

     Beatrice stood from the table quickly, knowing that Brock didn’t like to wait. “Bye Wanda.” She said quietly, grabbing her bag. Wanda stood too folding the newspaper clipping and placing it in Beatrice’s apron pocket.

     “You deserve to be happy,” Wanda said, her voice wavering, “If you won’t do it for yourself, do it for the baby.” 

     Beatrice hugged Wanda chastely, swallowing down a hard lump in her throat before scurrying out of the dinner, lured by a louder honk.

     Beatrice quietly walked to Brock’s car, hands shaking slightly, worried work had made him angry. When his work makes him angry, Brock almost always takes it out on Beatrice. She opened the car door and settled into the passanger seat, looking up at her husband.

     He had a huge grin on his face, eyes glinting with something Beatrice knew all to well. Lust. 

     “Hey sugar,” He said, his voice deep and intimidating, “Where’s my kiss?” Beatrice leaned over and placed a quick kiss on his lips, making him smile in response. She figured him being happy and horny was better than him smacking her around. 

      “I love you, darling.” He said, eyes moving up and down her figure. The car was silent for a few moments until Brock shouted, grabbing her wrists tightly. “The fuck are you just sitting there for? You deaf or something? When I say ‘I love you’ you respond!”

     Beatrice nodded, letting her arms fall limp in his hands, knowing that fighting would only make him more angry. “I love you too Brock.” She said, fear radiating from her body. He didn’t seem to care, letting her arms go and giving her charming grin. That what she hated most, no one even knew he was horrible to her, he was too charming.

     “Good girl,” He said, pulling a pack of cigarettes from his dash and lighting one, “That’s what I want to hear. How’s bout’ we go home and you show me just how much you love me huh?”

     Beatrice nodded, her mind instantly going to her baby. In that moment Beatrice decided that she would do anything to make sure Brock didn’t hurt her baby. Just like her mother did before her.

     

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yikes this was long. Oh well haha. Guess who tf she’s meeting in the next chapter? 
> 
> ; ))
> 
> Constructive criticism is greatly encouraged!


	3. The Book

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two off-duty cops decide they want a slice of pie.

     Beatrice was tired, so fucking tired. She didn’t know why, but when she pried herself from Brock’s arms she felt spent, wasted. A heavy weight had sat on her heart and all she wanted to do was run away, run away from Brock, from her baby, run away from this lonely town. She wished she could hug her mother one more time. Oh how desperatly Beatrice wanted her mother to hold her, whisper in her ear that everything was going to be okay, that she was going to be okay.

     She couldn’t though. Nothing could change the fact that her mother was dead and she was alone.

     The floor of Beatrice’s home was cold against her bare feet, a side effect of the approaching fall. Her mind drifted to all the pumpkin pies she would make once October hit. She liked pumpkin pies, they were fun to make and damn if they didn’t taste good.

     Beatrixe got dressed in her uniform quickly, noticing it felt tighter than usual. She wanted to cry, to slam her fists against the dresser, to scream. Instead she pinned her name tag above her breasts and laced up her boots.

     She looked back at Brock, his eyelids fluttering as he slept. He looked beautiful when he slept, so sweet, like the boy she met in highschool, the one who fumbled over his words and bought her flowers on their first date. She longed to be young again, when Brock really loved her. 

     Beatrice left the house quietly, walking briskly to her husbands car. Brock didn’t work on Sundays which meant she got to drive by herself, it meant she got time to think, to be alone.

     Beatrice knew what she had to do, not just for the baby growing inside her, but for herself. She knew she had to leave. It scared the shit out of her though, knowing that her whole life depended on that one contest. If she didn’t win, her life was over. She’d be stuck playing mommy with a man she didn’t love, knowing that he’d treat their baby the same way he treats her. 

     Beatrice decided then and there that she HAD to win that contest. For her baby.

     She arrived to work a short time later, punching in and greeting Wanda with an almost-real smile. Wanda looked beautiful as always, her hair up in a ponytail, a charming smile stretched across her face. 

     “Hey, Bea,” Wanda said, pulling something out of her bag that lay on one of the tables, “I got you something!” Beatrice traveled over to Wanda, taking the wrapped object from her, thanking her softly. Her and Wanda sat at a booth and Beatrice opened the present carefully.

     The present was a book. The cover was a soft pink and the title “Dear Baby” was written in swoopy letters. 

     “It’s a baby book,” Wanda chirped, pointing at the cover, “You write letters to your baby. There’s even a place to put ultrasound pictures and stuff.” 

     Beatrice frowned, eying the book. “Wanda...” she started.

     Wanda cut her off, smiling nervously, “I know you don’t want the baby, but I thought this might help,” she stated, “I don’t want you thinking you’re alone in this. You have me, and Sam, and Tony. And your baby.” She held Beatrice’s hand tightly, her big green eyes welling up with tears. 

     Beatrice shushed her gently, squeezing Wanda’s hand. “I know I’m not alone,” she fibbed, “I know.” 

     Wanda wiped at her eyes, giving Bea a smile before standing from the table. “Just think about it, okay? Writing to you baby might make you feel better.” Wanda then walked off to open up for the day.

     Beatrice’s started at the book, opening it. The pages were cute, filled with drawings of storks and pink and blue balloons. Beatrice felt herself smile, her fingers trailing over a drawing. Maybe she liked the idea of writing to her baby, maybe she liked the idea of being a momma.

     Beatrice was pulled from her thoughts by the dinging of the bell above the diner entrance. She looked up at the costumer walking in and felt her breath hitch in her throat. ‘God he’s gorgeous,’ she thought to herself, standing up from the booth she was sitting in. His hair was tied up in a small bun, tendrils falling into his face. He was wearing a cop uniform that showed off his broad shoulders deliciously. He had a scruffy beard, nice cheekbones, and a cute nose that fit perfectly on his face. But, the thing that Beatrice liked the most was his eyes. They were so blue and so sad.

     Beatrice cursed at herself. She was married, she couldn’t be thinking about another man like that. But damn if he wasn’t a sight for sore eyes. The blonde next to him wasn’t too shabby either, but definitely not Beatrice’s type.

     “Sit wherever you like, sugar,” Beatrice told them, a sweet smile plastered on her face, “I’ll be with you in a moment.”

      She disappeared into the back room, trying to steady her pounding heart. Tony eyed her suspiciously from his desk, a shit-eating grin on his face. “He’s that cute, huh?” He teased.

     “Eat a dick, Tony” Beatrice told him, sticking her tongue out at him like a child.

     “With relish.” 

    Beatrice rolled her eyes at him, turning to the door and taking a deep breath. She walked into the house of the diner. The cops sat together at a booth, the blonde one laughing loudly at something blue eyes had said. Blue eyes was blushing softly, a nervous grin on his face. ‘Oh god,’ Beatrice thought to herself.

     She walked over to their table, her heart beating wildly in her chest. “Hello, boys,” She said, her usual stoic and quiet demeanor replaced by her cheerful one, “You guys ready to order?”

     The blonde one nodded, glancing at the menu in his hands. “I’ll have the eggs and bacon with extra bacon, a side order of hash browns, wheat toast, and grits.” He said, smiling at Beatrice. ‘Damn he can eat.’ She thought to herself.

     “How bout’ you, sugar?” Beatrice asked blue eyes, her breath almost catching in her throat when they made eye contact.

     “Is your pie any good?” He asked.

     “The best in town,” She responded, “Make them myself every night.” 

     Blue eyes smiled at her and Beatrice’s heart skipped a beat. “I’ll have a slice of ‘Betrayed by my Eggs.’” He said glancing at the menu board above the bar. Beatrice blushed, realizing what she had named it.

    “Coming right up.” She said, before scurrying away, positive her whole body was red with embarrassment.

     Tony was never gonna let her live this one down.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long. But look, Bucky!


	4. The Blue-Eyed Man

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beatrice learns the blue-eyed man’s name and Vision makes a visit.

    The rest of the week flew by like a breeze. Beatrice confirmed her pregnancy at the doctors, finding out she was about eight weeks along. That meant she had time before she had to tell Brock she was pregnant, time to win that contest and drop his ass without him even knowing she had a baby growing in her.

     It was a Sunday morning when she decided to write the first letter. She was early to work and had to time to think. The more she thought about the baby in her the more she became excited. She had never thought about motherhood, figuring she just wouldn’t have children, but now it’s all she could think about. She imagined how cute their little toes would be, or the little outfits they would wear. She was happy for the first time about the baby, so she pulled the book from its hiding spot and started writing.

  _Dear Baby,_

_When I first found out about you I hated you. As far as I was concerned, you were going to ruin my life forever. See, your daddy isn’t a good man, he hurts me and I want to leave him SO bad. For a while I thought that you were an obstacle, something I had to overcome to be strong and leave. Now, I think you might be what pushes me to be strong._

_Wanda is so certain you’re a girl. Everytime she talks about you she calls you a she, and deep down I think she might be right. Sometimes I wish I could give you away to someone who could love you right. Someone like Wanda. Maybe I’m being selfish for bringing you into this world, but I can’t be alone anymore._

_I’m gonna get us out of this town, Baby, don’t you worry. I’m gonna win that prize money and you and me are gonna move somewhere new, far away from your Daddy. I’m gonna protect you, you just have to try and stay little so he doesn’t find out._

_I’m sorry I’m not the most loving, or capable mama, but I swear to you Baby, that I will protect you. Even if it means leaving everything else behind._

_Love, your mama._

    Beatrice closed the book, tears threatening to fall from her eyes. How did her life end up like this? When did everything turn to shit?

     Beatrice shut the book and hid it away when Tony entered the diner, Vision behind him. Vision was basically Tony’s son. Tony had met Vision over fifteen years ago when he was nineteen and half dead. He had been living on the streets and Tony had taken him in, and the two had grown very close. The two stayed close, even when Tony married his wife Pepper and had his own kid, Peter.

     Beatrice’s face lit up when she saw Vision as the blonde never visited the diner. She sprinted over to him, wrapping her arms around him, nearly knocking them both over, making him laugh loudly. “Goodness, Bea!” He chuckled.

     “Vis, you ass!” Beatrice yelled, feigning anger, “You never visit us!” 

     “Sorry, Bea,” Vision said, smiling kindly, “You know I’d never do it on purpose.”

     “Wanda is gonna freak when she finds out you’re here,” Beatrice said, smiling from ear to ear, “That kid has the biggest crush on you.”

     Vision blushed a deep red, making Beatrice and Tony laugh loudly. Vision and Wanda both had an unspoken attraction to eachother, and no matter how many times Tony and Bea tried to get them together, nothing worked.

     “Sorry to steal him from you,” Tony said sarcastically, “But he has an actual reason for being here. He can hang out with you guys later.”

     “Why’s he here?” Beatrice asked

     “It’s a surprise, don’t worry your pretty head about it.” Tony said, blowing Bea a kiss.

     She flipped him off in return, laughing when Vision gasped loudly. The boys then retreated to the back room, leaving Beatrice alone. It felt like her life was finally falling to place, that maybe things were going her way. It had been a while since she had felt truly happy, and here she is, smiling like and idiot and writing letters to a fetus the size of an apple seed.

     The day went by nicely from then, until a certain police officer decided to make another appearance.

     He came in around twelve o’clock and almost made Beatrice drop the plate of eggs she was holding. Beatrice and him make eye contact for a moment before she finally spoke. “Be there in a few sugar, sit wherever you like!”

     The blue-eyed man took a seat at a booth, his dark hair hanging in his face. He had a cut on his lip that hadn’t been there last time Beatrice saw him, and she couldn’t help but wonder where it came from. His eyes hadn’t changed though, still a stunning baby blue and still sad.

     Beatrice drifted to his booth, getting a surge of confidence. “Hello, darlin’,” she said, “You back for more pie? Told you they were good.” 

     His eyes drifted to his hands, and Beatrice noticed his prosthetic arm for the first time. It was metal and looked expensive, the plates shifted everytime his arm or fingers moved. “Yeah,” he said, his voice deep and soft. He smiled slightly at Beatrice, and Bea felt her heart skip a beat. He ordered an apple pie and Beatrice started to walk away.

     Before she did though, Beatrice started to feel brave. She turned to face him, making him look up from his hands. “I go on break in five,” she said anxiously, “You mind some company?”

     The man looked surprised, his eyes widening. Beatrice started to feel embarrassed, thinking he was going to say no. But, he nodded his head, and gave her a dashing smile. ‘This day keeps getting better and better.’ She thought, going to the kitchen to get him his pie.

      When she walked into the kitchen, Sam wiggled his eyebrows at Bea. She took a dollop of whipped cream from her slice of pie and flung it at him, making him shriek loudly. 

     Bea then walked out of the kitchen, two plates of apple pie in hand, and a bright smile on her face, and sat across from the _gorgeous_ man. The two sat in silence for a few minutes, until the man finally spoke.

     “I’m James,” he said, “But everyone calls me Bucky.”

     “Bucky?” She asked, “How do you get Bucky from James?” Beatrice wondered, shoveling a piece of pie in her mouth. Ever since her baby she couldn’t stop eating, maybe it could be her alibi for the weight she was gaining.

     “My middle name, Buchanan, my friend Steve came up with it when we were kids and it stuck.” He said, shrugging his shoulders. A fond look crossed over his eyes when he talked about Steve, and Bea could tell how much Steve meant to Bucky.

     “I’m Beatrice,” Bea said, smiling widely at Bucky, making him smile as well.

     The two talked for a while, Bucky telling Bea about funny arrests he’s had, making her almost choke on a piece of apple at one point. She found out he and his best friend Steve were in the army when they were younger. Beatrice also told him about her baby, and she could almost swear a sad look crossed his face when she mentioned it.

     Her curiosity about his arm wouldn’t go away, so Bea swallowed her fear and asked him about it. “How’d ya lose your arm?” She asked. A dark look came over his face, and Bea regretted asking immediately. “I-I’m so sorry, that was so out of bounds.”

     Bucky put his hand up, “Its okay, doll.” He said, Beatrice’s cheeks flushing at the nickname, “When I was in the army, me and Steve were sent on a mission. It was a get-in-get-out thing, supposed to be easy. Instead, I took a bad fall. They saved my life but couldn’t save my arm.” If it was possible, his blue eyes grew even sadder as he spoke.

     “I’m sorry,” Bea said, reaching over the table to grab his hand, “I shouldn’t have asked.”

     The two sat like that for a while, hand in hand, eye to eye. 

     But, the clock hitting 12:30 signaled that her break was over, and Bea said goodbye to her new friend. But, when she turned to leave, Bucky grabbed her wrist. He scribbled his number on a napkin, giving it to her. “If you ever wanna talk,” he said, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck, “Or, get something to eat..” 

     Beatrice smiled, closing her hand around the napkin. “Sure thing, sugar.” She said before grabbing both their plates and heading to the kitchen.

     When Beatrice was safe where Bucky couldn’t see her, she almost screamed. Bucky was perfect in every way, funny, sweet, and beautiful. But, she was married.

     And there was no way in hell Brock would let a dinner with Bucky happen. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Visions backstory is horrible, I know lol. This is a filler chapter and kind of shitty, yikes.

**Author's Note:**

> So I promise it will pick up hahahaha.


End file.
